Patagonia Part II - Fitz Roy
If there was a battle for the title of Best Backyard, the small town of El Chaltén would surely be a top contender. From the bus station, you're able to walk to several trailheads that take you around a myriad of mountains, lakes and glaciers, where you get up close and personal with the region's crown jewel. Monte Fitz Roy, or Cerro Chaltén, sits on the border of Argentina and Chile in the Southern Patagonian Ice Field and begs to take your breath away. Adding to the mystique of this beauty, Fitz Roy remains one of the most technically challenging peaks in the world.
Look familiar? The Fitz Roy skyline is the logo for Patagonia's world-famous outdoor brand.
Continued From Patagonia Part I - Torres Del Paine
After finishing my hike in Torres Del Paine, I returned to Puerto Natales and spent the morning waiting for a storm to clear out and for an available bus seat to my next stop — El Calafate.
El Calafate was a bit more touristy than Puerto Natales, but still small enough to walk around and enjoy. I prepared for the next adventure by resupplying with food, wine, and ibuprofen before checking into a breathtaking hostel that overlooked Lago Argentino.
DAY ONE
I walked toward the bus station, along the dark streets of El Calafate, following the shadows of other travelers with similar intentions and itineraries. Once on board, we rolled through twilight as LCD Soundsystem hummed through headphones and forced eyelids ajar. A few hours into the drive, we rounded a corner and the Fitz Roy skyline rolled out the welcome mat — an instant classic.
A mandatory stop at the visitors center provided a park map, weather forecast and a list of all the do's and don'ts. I typically despise administrative hurdles, but honestly, it was pretty informative. After the visitor session concluded, it was game on. Hikers, families and locals dispersed and I walked along a quiet street, following tiny signs that would ultimately lead to one of the biggest vistas. I hiked slowly, constantly snapping photos. I was conscious that I was taking too many images of the same mountain, but was unable to slow down. Its grandeur was truly captivating.
Once at camp, I set up my tent, dropped extra gear and walked the steep trail up to Laguna de Los Tres. I planned on returning in 12 hours to catch sunrise and figured I should see what it was all about.
(It was perfect)
DAY TWO
Early to rise and back up the mountain to await the sweet morning glow. The full moon guided weary eyes and danced around the peaks while the sun slowly made its way toward the horizon. After a couple magical hours, I worked my way back to camp to cook breakfast and pack bags.
I spent the rest of the day exploring glacial lagoons, crunching through fallen leaves and winding along meandering streams. With only eight miles on the agenda, I had time to waste and it felt good to slow down and take it all in.
In the early afternoon, I arrived at Campo De Agostini, my home for the night. A few groups had already set up tents, but it was calm and quiet. I walked the perimeter as the sun began to set, taking in the skyline from a new, but equally idyllic vantage point.
But this show had a new headliner— the sheer, enormous, granite peak of Cerro Torre.
DAY THREE
Same program, different morning. My favorite routine. To top it off, the final sunrise epic boasted the shortest morning hike, clearest skies, and calmest winds.
Cerro Torre reflected symmetrically in Laguna Torre, as a swan-shaped ice block floated through the composition, breaking placid waters. This mountain was incredible.
Cerro Torre begs to be climbed, and is one of the most difficult ascents out there. Jon Krakauer recounts his summit in Into Thin Air: "I'd scaled a frightening, mile-high spike of vertical and overhanging granite called Cerro Torre; buffeted by hundred-knot winds, plastered with frangible atmospheric rime, it was once thought to be the world's hardest mountain".
It may no longer be "the world's hardest", but it's certainly one of the most perfect.
DAYS FOUR & FIVE
With a couple days left to kill, I casually began to retrace my route back to the airport. Along the way, I managed to snag a few more sunsets, drink some beers with the local waterfowl, learn about the process of glacial calving and daydream about my return to this special place.